


Drifting in Silence

by KayMakesItQueer



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Drift Compatibility, Everyone's favorite compact persian sociopath, Gen, Jaegar Academy, Pacific Rim AU, cole isn't midwestern, complete for now tho she may drift with root later, pre-shoot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27612122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayMakesItQueer/pseuds/KayMakesItQueer
Summary: They slip in and out of their memories, too fast to really relive them. Shaw won't let herself get distracted. She breathes. Matches her breathing with Cole's. Shaw can't place the emotions she experiences, but she knows they're not hers. She briefly wonders if nightmares feel like this.ORFighting sea monsters in giant robot suits? Shaw's always been the type to answer the call to action, and there's going to be a helluva a lot of action on the Pacific coast, trying to keep the Kaiju at bay. Sharing a headspace with another person though? That'll take some adjusting to.
Kudos: 4





	Drifting in Silence

In another life, Shaw would have made an excellent doctor.

In this one, she sits in a makeshift tattoo parlor after her first firefight and sketches the design from memory. She doesn't flinch when her squad leader inks it into her forearm: the Rod of Asclepius. The snake curls around the staff, and the boys push her to add 'USMC.' She relents because she likes the contrast. The modern harbinger of death above a symbol of healing. It looks exactly like her father's.

Later, with her arm covered in cling-wrap and an energy bar half way to her mouth, Carbajal finds blood on his sleeve. He rips his jacket off and scrubs at it furiously, trying to wash away the dead. Pacing and muttering and shaking, he takes a swing when Jackson approaches.

Shaw has him on the ground before anyone else can move. With his arm pinned behind his back and her knee on his spine, she finishes her energy bar before speaking, "we're doing a good thing here. If you don't think so, get out." Killing doesn't bother her, and she doesn't think it should bother any of them either. They knew what they signed up for. The guys they hit last night had enough dirty bombs to take out several city blocks. Kill a few, save the many. They did a good thing last night.

Carbajal calms, but he doesn't reenlist. Shaw does.

* * *

Back from her second tour, Shaw watches the first Kaiju breech the waters off the coast of San Francisco. It takes five days to kill the monster.

When people realize the Kaiju attacks aren't stopping and the nukes aren't working, the war efforts dwindle and the world turns its collective attention toward stopping the other worldly threat.

The Jaeger Academy opens a few years later, and Shaw's commanding officers approach her days after she comes back from the field. "You're good at what you do here, but you'd make a better pilot." She leaves the Marines and enlists in the Academy without a second thought.

* * *

  
A week into training, the other cadets start keeping their distance from Shaw. The wary glances are unwarranted, but she gets half a table in the mess hall to herself, so she manages.

When she walks into the mess hall, a guy she's never seen before has taken her table. Not one to let things like other humans deter her from her routine, she sits across from him. They make eye contact, and Shaw thinks up ways to get him to leave her in peace. She stares him down, and he returns it with a steady look. Without a word, he slides over a plate piled high with all her favorites, and she accepts. It saves her the effort of warding off small talk in the chow line.

The morning chatter and clanging of trays fill the space between them.

In the silence, she takes the guy in: lean, sandy haired, freshly shaven, likely Midwestern. Probably here because of some misconceived notions of heroism propagated by the Pan Pacific Defense Corps. But he brought her food, and he hasn't tried to make conversation about the weather (cold, always cold in Alaska), so she keeps it civil. She even offers a parting nod before heading to the Kwoon.  
\---  
"When you drift with someone, it takes trust. A bond. Without that connection, you'll never be a Jaeger pilot. You're all here to save the world, but we can't do it alone." The Fightmaster gestures to the floor-to-ceiling banners scattered around the Kwoon: Romeo Blue, Tacit Ronin, Brawler Yukon. His speech sounds similar to yesterday's.

Starry-eyed cadets hang onto the Fightmaster's every word while she bites her tongue and stares at the floor. She doesn't have feelings, and she damn sure didn't sign up for this touchy feely crap.

"We are here to forge partnerships. When you're compatible, when you find your partner, your individual strengths are combined. You feel indestructible." The Fightmaster pauses to make eye contact with every cadet before him. Shaw smooths her expression out, meets his gaze dead on and gives nothing away. He passes over her.

"I will give you a moment to find a partner. Choose wisely," he says it like the weight of their lives rests on this decision, and Shaw rolls her eyes as discreetly as she can.

Cadets begin pairing up, and a boy struts up to her. He looks like he lied about his age to get here. "Cadet Banks," he offers his hand, and she grips it tightly. Too tight based on the wince he tries to hide.

"No." She releases him and looks for a new partner. One less fragile.

The guy from breakfast makes his way over. She raises a brow, and he doesn't hesitate, "Michael Cole."

She doesn't give her name, but he goes on, undeterred, "Want to be indestructible?" He throws her a wolfish grin and holds his hand out. Definitely Midwestern.

She ignores his hand but stops looking for a partner.

Had anyone else said something like that, it would have sounded like a bad pick-up line. From Cole, she tolerates it.

* * *

Before Cole, the instructors often pulled Shaw aside after matches. They always said the same thing: "you're an excellent fighter, but this isn't a fight. It's a dialogue. You have to work with your partner." They emphasized words like it'd make her catch their meaning. Shaw brushes their comments off because why hand her a weapon if they want her to chitchat? She takes down people twice her size, but they continue to reprimand her for it.

With Cole, they receive nothing but praise. When they spar, they match each other blow for blow. She has the advantage of speed, but he has a longer reach and knows how to use it.

The first time they fight, she tries to wait him out. He does the same. Circling each other, checking for openings, they match each other step for step. He bounces, buzzing with excited energy. She prowls, clocking his weaknesses.

When the stalemate ends, they strike out with their sticks at the same time, both catching each other in the chest. No one ever gets the first point on her, but he comes close enough that it earns him her respect. She gives him a nod, and he preens.

Shaking it off, she makes the first move the second time. She fakes an overhead strike and changes her grip to take a sweep to his unguarded side. He counters both moves and tries to kick her feet out. Jumping away from his feet, she strikes high and lands a point.

They reset, and he knocks her bo out of her hands and hits her in the ribs before she has the chance to adjust her grip, pulling in a point with a cheap shot.

"Oh, it's like that, huh?" She wipes away sweat and picks up her bo.

"You shouldn't hold it so loosely. You might drop it," Cole says. She sends him a deadly grin, and he waggles his brows.

She "accidentally" kicks him in the face next round. He has more than a foot on her, so she has to take him to the ground to do it, but she gets the point and he catches the message. Shaw enjoys finally having a partner that gives as good as he gets.

They pass the second cut.

* * *

A few weeks after that fight, they suit up for the first time. Shaw knows she can Drift. Her Drifts with Sarah the Brain have gone well, and Shaw learned more about child psychology and coconut candies than she ever wanted to, but allowing someone else into her brain feels invasive. And weird.

On paper, Shaw and Cole are Drift Compatible. They theoretically create a strong neural link. Despite how invasive the process will surely be, the evals and the Pons training say they have a strong link. Shaw can be a good Ranger pilot. One of the best, even. So, she gears up for the first time and waits for their test run in the Headspace simulation.

Beside her, Cole fidgets in his drivesuit while the techs adjust his sensors. Shaw shoots him a look, and he stills long enough to let them work. After they set up the various connecters and processors embedded in the suits, Shaw shakes her shoulders out and tests her range of motion. With three layers of gear on, the suit proves deceptively flexible.

"I feel like a superhero in this thing. I'll paint a cool emblem on it, and we'll take on the world. It's even bulletproof, you know. In case the Kaiju start shooting bullets from their eyes," Cole strikes a heroic pose. She's seen better.

"Settle down, Superman. They're not bulletproof. It's a polycarbonate shell, meant to sustain the physical requirements of piloting." He gives her a look she can't read. She continues, "Means a Kaiju could throw your happy ass against a wall, and your spine might not snap."

"I'm more of a Marvel guy, myself," he stops posing when Shaw shoves him toward the Headspace simulation. Stepping into the simulation Conn-Pod for their first test run, they have to wait through more set up.

Shaw takes the time to check out the Mock-Pod. Factory drab, it likely never saw better days. Resources across the Pacific are scarce, so the brand new facility looks like a Steampunk nerd's wet dream cobbled together with scrap-yard metals. All rusted metal, loose wiring and exposed gears. Even their drivesuits' white paint give way to scuffs and dings. That recycled-chic look is really in right now with the monster apocalypse nearing.

Once they put on their thinking caps and the feedback cradles cable them to the SimJaeger's interface, Shaw and Cole enter the simulation.

"Cadet Shaw. Cadet Cole. Everything looks good on our end. Prepare for neural handshake," the voice comes through their commlink from LOCCENT Command.

Cole catches her eye, "don't chase the R.A.B.I.T.s." He winks at her and Shaw shakes her head. If one of them gets distracted by their own mind, it damn sure won't be her.

"Initiating in three...two...one..."

They fall into the Drift Space.

_The crisp smell of tahdig welcomed a younger Sameen home. Her parents danced around each other: her mother collected fresh herbs while her father washed dishes, gliding past one another with gentle hands and soft smiles. She liked to watch them move together. When Sameen's father caught her lingering in the doorway, he slid his arm around her shoulders, and she shifted away. He never asked why. She wanted him to ask, but he just said what he always said: "all you gotta do is be good, Sameen." At age seven, she didn't know what he meant._

_cheering and running and a puffed out chest: a younger cole shoots and the ball hits the back of the net. pride and excitement and embraced by a tall girl with the same frosty eyes and sandy hair, he can't help but linger on the empty space behind her. the lights flicker out and their mom doesn't come home. they fall asleep in her bed. hands clasped. disappointment doesn't get rubbed away by victory._

Shaw senses Cole's presence in the Drift, experiences his memories, and it all feels louder than it should. The Pons training didn't prepare her for the intensity of an almost-real Drift.

_Sameen had never felt so angry. Bested by a merry-go-round. She went back the next day and spun for hours, clenching her teeth and riding through the motion sickness. When her father found her on her knees clutching her stomach, he brushed her hair back and he corrected her when she said she wasn't weak: "Without weakness, we have no strength." At age nine, she knew she had something to prove._

_spinning around in a chair with f's and ‘to whom it may concerns’ scattered across the table, his sister never gets angry. "what're you doing, mikey." it doesn't sound like a question. cole spins and spins and doesn't look for an answer._

They slip in and out of their memories, too fast to really relive them. Shaw won't let herself get distracted. She breathes. Matches her breathing with Cole's.

_Her body hurt, and the world turned upside down. Heat and darkness and inescapable. "Don't worry, Sameen. We're okay. You're okay," his voice sounded too quiet from the driver's seat. She tried to stop the bleeding with her new sweater, but her father's eyes closed anyway. Clutching a sweater now more red than green, Sameen waited. The paramedic that pulled her out looked at her strangely when she confirmed her father's death. At age ten, she realized she was different._

_the minute hand speeds and slows and cole's sister swats his hand away from the clock. "you can't force time to pass, mikey." the minutes turn to hours to days and michael's mom never comes home. she'll be back she's never gone this long we just have to wait she said she'd be here. hope and disappointment and flashing lights. a stern man he's only met twice takes her place. the man offers a too tight handshake and calls him son._

Shaw can't place the emotions she experiences, but she knows they're not hers. She briefly wonders if nightmares feel like this.

_Sergeant Shaw couldn't stop any of it. Buildings crumbled and people died and no amount of training could have equipped her for the day honest-to-God monsters erupted from the Pacific. Under a crumbled bridge, Michael clutched the hand of that girl, older now. His other hand held a jacket to her stomach. The scene shifts between San Francisco and Manila, but very little changes. With the fighter planes above, and the monsters wreaking havoc, Shaw and Cole stand together. Shaw can't see him, but she senses his presence in the Drift. They watch their past selves in the chaos._

Their memories intermingle and overlap.

_Academy Orientation and Shaw easily picks both of them out of the crowd. Breakfasts in the mess hall, carefully balancing too much food on trays. Classrooms, the range, the mats. Picking one up after knocking the other down. Chess games and matching frowns, the silence sits lightly between them._

Time reasserts itself. Kodiak Island. The Jaeger Academy. 2016. The Drift is silence.

A voice comes through the commlinks. "Connection holding strong. Systems calibrated. Alright, Catalyst Indigo. You got a Category II heading toward the coast. Two Jaegars down already. This one fights dirty, so watch your flanks and keep it off the Miracle Mile."

Shaw lifts her arm and sees Cole do the same. Their Jaeger responds to the command too. They move in sync. Shaw could fight a hurricane in this thing, but she settles for ripping some Kaiju apart.

An hour later, Catalyst Indigo stops the Kaiju at the docks. They impale it with a cargo ship and unload an entire clip of plasma into its chest.

* * *

After the debriefing, Cole catches up to her, "I think our Jaeger needs a sword. She's the kind of girl that'd like a sword."

Shaw makes it to her dorm and slams the door on him. She avoids him the rest of the day, but a shaky recruit hands her a tray of food in the evening.

She tries to keep it up the next day, but they train together. He doesn't say anything when she pushes herself harder than usual. In the classroom, on the range, on the mats. She only slows after the second time Cole knocks her on her ass.

"Want to take a break?" He pushed himself too, trying to keep up with her.

"Breaks are for the weak." She strikes again, but he disarms her and sweeps her to the ground.

"So is getting dropped on your ass," he shoots back. Shaw stays down a couple seconds longer than necessary, catching her breath. She hears him breathing harder than her. Smirking, she jumps back up for a few more rounds.

"Stop winding up like that, amateur. Leaves you--"she hits him hard in the chest, knocking the wind out of him "--wide open."

His mouth twitches like he wants to frown but doesn't want Shaw to see it. He's kept pace with her all day, but he walks on eggshells, and Shaw wants to take a hammer to this unsettling foundation they're balancing on. He looks at her like he gets her, wants to get her, and Shaw only signed up to kill Kaiju. She doesn't want some boy's feelings spewing all over her.

They reset, and she takes him to the ground. They grapple for a minute, but she gets inside his guard and contemplates pummeling him until he stops giving her his concerned rabbit look. She lets him up after a moment.

Cole holds his hands up in surrender after he's scrambled to his feet. "Okay, okay. If you want to act like a wrecking ball, let's go find something for you to wreck." He drags Shaw off the mats, and she shakes out of his grip but follows nonetheless.

"This isn't what I had in mind," Shaw looks around the crowded bar. She spots a few other cadets in bomber jackets, drawing attention to themselves and showing off to the locals. Behind the bar, scattered among the shelves of booze, there are several PPDC posters. They all speak of victory and unity, countries banding together against the common enemy.

"Wrecked, smashed, hammered, sloshed. You looked like you could use a drink," Cole orders for them. Shaw joins him because she doesn’t argue with free drinks. She downs the first few rounds but slows when Cole starts wobbling on his feet. Lightweight.

He leans into her space and asks, "Wanna talk about it?" He stretches the first syllable out too long and pushes the rest of the question out too quickly. Hesitation followed by words he likely practiced.

“Keep the booze coming, and you’ll find out.”

He deflates immediately, “I’ve been in your mind, I think I know your answer.”

She doesn’t like the reminder.

"So, you felt all that. I had no idea--I was reliving all of it. And living through your..." he trails off. His brow furrows, and he swirls the last dregs of his beer. Often filled with the kind of energy caffeine can't replicate, he does the sad puppy routine well too.

But Shaw doesn't want to have that conversation. To experience all of that so viscerally--she picks at the chipped counter. She redirects the topic: "why'd you join the program, Cole?"

"To kill Kaiju," he says it like it's the only answer. He waves his beer in the direction of the propaganda posters to highlight his point.

"Your Courage Will Bring Us Victory, huh?" The slogan could use some workshopping, but the PPDC plastered it on every billboard, trashcan, and light post across the coast.

Cole frowns at the posters, but he continues after a moment, "My sister and I. We thought the first attack was a fluke. Some weird one-off. Then another hits the Philippines while she's shooting for a magazine. I went with her, and...Well." Shaw knows all of this, but he has this empty look that stops her from saying so. "I would've published her last pictures. But her camera. Her life's purpose, and it's gone. Seeing all of that in the Drift is a helluva a motivator, isn't it." He clips his sentences like that'll make the words easier and orders another round when it doesn't. Shaw waves the bartender away.

Shaw lets the space between them fill with clinging glasses and easy chatter for awhile. A guy across the bar makes eyes at her, but she turns back to Cole. He waits for an answer, and she doesn't have to think about it: "saving people is a good thing." She doesn't necessarily like people, could do without them most days, but she's damn good at saving them.

"We're killing Kaiju and saving lives?" He perks back up, and Shaw doesn't think she said anything to cause it.

Sharing a headspace sucks, and it is as invasive and weird as she thought it would be, but they have the highest drop score in the academy. Half the other recruits didn't even kill their Kaiju. "Something like that." Her lip quirks up, and the conversation gets easier after that.

All of it gets easier after that. She avoids him for at least 12 hours after a Drift then they drink. It becomes routine, and they make it through the Academy with this mutual understanding.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> What's it like to be a sociopath and share a literal headspace with someone? To feel and understand their emotions on such a visceral level? I wanted to explore that with Shaw. I have a lot of ideas for this one, but it's complete for now.


End file.
